


Anchor

by cuteashale



Series: Whatsits Galore [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, but also works as the strongest brotherly love to ever exist, can be read as sciles (or skittles) if you squint a little, sort of a coda to Anchors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteashale/pseuds/cuteashale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re all lost in their own worlds when they hear the scream. If the sheriff hadn’t already left, Scott knows he’d have been up the stairs in an instant. Instead, it’s him that flies off the couch and bounds up the stairs into Stiles’ room.</p><p>He’s laying there in the bed, eyes wide but unseeing, mouth open in a horrible wail.</p><p>"Stiles!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt, another story.
> 
> You can also read this [here](http://cuteashale.tumblr.com/post/72647325442/could-you-do-sciles-fic-set-after-s3ep13-where-scott).

"Hey, kids." The sheriff’s voice is weary and Scott feels a sharp, deep stab of guilt pierce him straight through the chest.

If his dad wasn’t meddling, if the sheriff wasn’t losing his job, if he could just _do_ something…

_If, if, if._

"Stiles is sleeping right now."

John glances toward the stairs, a worried frown on his face, as Lydia questions, “Rough night?” He nods and she gives his arm a gentle pat as they make their way into the living room.

It seems like rough nights are all they’re having lately.

Allison’s dreams have gotten even more disturbing, so much so that she isn’t even talking about them. Not to her dad. Not to Lydia. Definitely not to Isaac. Or Scott.

Scott spends half the night worrying that he’s going to lose control in his sleep and hurt someone and he can’t go through that again. He shouldn’t be going through this again. When he does manage to sleep, it’s fitful. He spends a lot of time dreaming about his parents fighting, his friends getting hurt, Derek not responding to his texts.

Lydia wants to help. She knows what it feels like to see things. To go “crazy” and not know what to do to fix it. Her friends might not have helped her but she’s going to do everything she can to help them.

They’re all lost in their own worlds when they hear the scream. If the sheriff hadn’t already left, Scott knows he’d have been up the stairs in an instant. Instead, it’s him that flies off the couch and bounds up the stairs into Stiles’ room. 

He’s laying there in the bed, eyes wide but unseeing, mouth open in a horrible wail.

"Stiles!"

Scott isn’t sure what to do. Stiles is thrashing around, kicking his blankets and punching at the pillows around him and Scott doesn’t think. He grabs Stiles as tightly as he can and hugs him, arms wrapped around his torso to stop his movement.

"Stiles, it’s me! It’s just a dream, it’s not real!"

But that doesn’t work.

If possible, Stiles shouts get even louder and then he’s sobbing. Clawing at Scott’s forearms in a desperate attempt to free himself from the pressure around him.

It’s dark, he can’t breathe, _they’re_ coming-

"Stiles!" Scott’s voice is getting desperate. Stiles can hear him but he can’t- there’s so much, so _many_ \- he can’t…

"Breathe, Stiles, I’m here. It’s Scott. C’mon, man, it’s me! I’m right here, you’re okay."

He takes a breath and he can see. Flashes first. Lights. They’re too bright in the dark but there’s-

Hands?

Scott’s hands.They’re holding onto his, squeezing them, and they’re warm. They’re tangled inextricably with his and they’re so _warm_.

He can’t remember the last time he felt something so warm. Everything’s cold no matter how many blankets he puts on at night or how tightly he shuts his window and the dreams - the dreams are always so _cold_.

But not Scott. Scott is anything but cold.

He’s warmth and light and love and-

"Scott?" Stiles’ voice isn’t much more than a croak, but it’s there.

Scott exhales a breath and lets his head bump Stiles’ shoulder as they slump to the side. “Hey, dude,” he says softly, loosening his grip so Stiles can turn over. He smiles when they’re eye to eye, worry and relief clouding his features. “You okay?”

"Not really." Stiles swallows and buries his fingers in Scott’s t-shirt. "But I’m better now." _With you_ is unsaid, but obvious.

Nodding a little, Scott thunks their foreheads together and flashes a quick grin.

It’s bright; Stiles isn’t in the dark anymore.

"It’s okay," Scott murmurs. "We’re gonna be okay, Stiles. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://cuteashale.tumblr.com)


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